


Ineffable husbands Au week 2020

by DonttellNightwing



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands AU Week 2020, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26563750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DonttellNightwing/pseuds/DonttellNightwing
Summary: Written for @ineffablehusbandsweek 's Au week 2020.1.Coffee shop alternate meeting2.Neghbors human AU3.Bakery reverse AU
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. Coffeeshop alternate meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale never met at the garden. Over six hundred years later, they meet in a similar situation, but there are also many differences.

It was pouring outside the little café in Soho. It was a cozy little shop, with few tables and many plants. It was rather new, but already quite busy with people of all ages milling about and chattering with each other. The entire atmosphere of the shop was cozy, even if the colour scheme was more whites and pastels. 

Crowley enjoyed it, really. He wouldn’t tell anyone, he was a demon, after all. He liked the natural greens of the plants mingling with the white, pale pink, and baby blues. The natural sunlight coming from the skylight was also nice.

He sat at one of the tables which looked like it was from a garden catalogue. The white metal legs met the tabletop with intricate curves, and there was a nice fern siting in a pale blue pot in the center of his table.

The storm continued, lightning striking across the sky. It reminded him a bit of the flood. Though, there was less screaming and begging. He pushed away the thoughts and memories. They weren’t useful.

The bell to the front door rung as another customer entered, seeking shelter from the rain, no doubt. The shop was already crowded.

Crowley continued on his work, typing away at his report to head office. It was his yearly report, so it had to be good. Unfortunately, or fortunately for everyone else, there wasn’t much to write, or even take credit for. This year had been incredibly peaceful. Now he had to put a spin on everything he had done. Maybe he could take credit for starting a few heated discussions of theology or trolling an anti-vaccine group. Those were mostly for fun, but he was sure he could spin it someway.  
“Hello?” a voice said from beside him, breaking his focus from the task at hand. He felt a spike of anger but pushed it down and looked toward the newcomer.

“Yes?” he asked, slight annoyance making its way into his voice.

“Yes, well, I was wondering if I could sit with you? There’s nowhere else.” The middle-aged man asked, a warm smile on his face.

Crowley took in the man’s appearance. He was probably in his mid to late forties, with curly blond-almost white-hair and bright blue eyes. He seemed shorter than him, though Crowley was sitting and couldn’t be sure, and looked almost, for lack of a better word, cherubic. 

“Uh, sure?” he didn’t see the trouble, really, and maybe he could add tempting this man into spoiling his appetite on his list of demonic achievements. Obviously with more flowery wording. ‘I tempted a man into gluttony’ and all that.

The man sat down on the chair in front of him, smiling politely as he waited for his order. Crowley continued his report, muttering angerly at the excessive amount of lines he had to fill out.

“Are you having trouble, dear?” the man asked, a small smile still on his lips.

“No, no,” he said as the waitress gave the man his order and replaced Crowley’s cup with a new, steaming one, “Just work, so many bloody forms.”

“Oh, I understand that,” he sighed, nodding his head sympathetically.

They were quiet again, letting the conversation lull, and not minding it. Crowley continued with his paperwork, and the man listened to the thunder.

There was a loud crack, and all the power went out at once. The entire café was bathed in darkness, and it seemed like the same was happening in the whole neighborhood. The only things lighting the room were the computers of lucky patrons who didn’t have their computers connected to the wall.

Now, normally this doesn’t happen. The problem? Both Crowley and the man in front of him believe it does. You really can’t blame them, they’ve been around far longer than electricity, so imagine taking a roman emperor and bringing him through history and placing him in front of a computer. Now multiply that time by ten. That’s Crowley and the man in front of him, though Crowley doesn’t know about the man, yet.

Crowley, however, was unlucky, and his computer shut off. He also hadn’t saved for the last hour.

“Bless it all to heaven,” he said, leaning back in his chair and swearing half-heartedly.

The man simply smiled, “Quite the phrase you’ve got there. Damning to hell too mainstream?” 

“Yeah, you could say that.” He unplugged his laptop and closed it, putting it in its bag and looking to the man.

The man watched him.

“Are you leaving?” he asked, and Crowley almost thought he was disappointed. Surely not.

“Nah, just putting this stuff away. Going outside now would be suicide.”

The man nodded, looking up to the skylight as sheets of rain slammed into the thick glass.

“What do you do?” the man asked after a moment of silence.

“Oh, business. It’s Hell.” He had to stop himself from laughing at his own joke.

“Oh, dear. I do hope it gets better.” The man smiles quite a lot, doesn’t he? Or maybe he just doesn’t stop. The latter seems the most plausible, since he hasn’t seen the man with even a neutral expression the entire time.

“It will, soon as I get the report done.”

“Well,” the man said, “I’m sure that will be soon.”

As a holy presence washes over him, he is reminded why he usually avoids Soho. The presence of angels had been there since the late 18th century, and maybe even further. It almost makes him sick. Being a demon in ‘blessed’ places will do that to you.

Instead of throwing up at the overwhelming goodness, he coughs slightly into the crook of his elbow.

They talk for a few more minutes until the rain settles down into a drizzle. In that time, Crowley finds out this man has one of the most biblical names ever. Abraham Zachariah Fell. What? It was the 21st century, right? He hadn’t gone back in time? Fell had said it was a family name, but Crowley doesn’t know if that makes it better or worse.

They begin to leave at the same time, talking on the way to the door.

“Do you have a way home?” the man askes at the door when they’re about to go out.

“Yeah, my car, it’s close.” The man, who Crowley quickly realized was everything Heaven wasn’t, took out his hideous tartan umbrella.

“Well, then let me lead you to it,” Fell opened his umbrella and held it over Crowley’s head, making him feel warm inside. Obviously, Crowley didn’t actually need an umbrella. Rain tended to slide off of him like whatever water slides off of.

They stopped at the front door of his Bentley, watching each other closely.

Taking a chance, he reached into his pocket where a piece of paper with his phone number on it miraculously appeared. The man didn’t notice it.

“Here” he said, placing the paper in the man’s free hand, then opening the door and getting in. “Ciao” He closed the door and started off.

When he got the call the next Sunday, he couldn’t be happier.


	2. Neighbors human AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antonia and Zira go on a date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backstory: Antonia was kicked out of the house when she was a teen, after coming out as trans. She was found by her older brother, who was also kicked out three years prior, and he helped her through her transition and name change. Thirteen years later, she moved out and started babysitting Zira's daughter.  
> Zira moved to the neighborhood five years before, after her ex cut contact when he found out about her pregnancy. Turns out, Zira's ex was Antonia's twin brother, but no one knows that yet.

Zira was nervous as she got ready. She shouldn’t be, of course, Mrs. Crowley was the one who suggested the date. Was it a date, though? She had suggested going to the fair to ‘get a break’ from work and caring for little Angelica. Was this just going to be a friendly day trip, or was it really something more?

She hoped it was something more, though she expected the lady to only be polite. Or maybe it was just a way to get a raise.

No, Antonia wouldn’t do that. Still, if she really meant it as a date, why? When most dates found out about Angelica, they usually ran off, not wanting a woman with kids. Mrs. Crowley knew about Angelica way before the two even met! She was Angelica’s babysitter for god’s sake!

She shook her head and continued getting ready, ignoring the growing mixture of fear and hope settled in her stomach. Then she moved to get little Angelica ready, putting the dark brown hair in little braids and getting her dressed.

They left their house at about 5:55 and went next door, where a fancy car was waiting in the driveway. Angelica stared at the car for a few moments, until her mother finally got her attention.

They knocked on the door at 5:57, and seconds later, a man opened it. He was dressed in an expensive suit and was no doubt the owner of the car in the front. He glanced over them, then turned to shout into the house.

“Toni! Your date is here!” the man turned back to her, “You can come in.”

She tried to lower her blush as she waited in the little entrance hall, playing with the flowery dress she wore. She felt like an embarrassed teen.

“Seriously, Luci, don’t embarrass her.” Antonia said, coming down the stairs.

She was dressed more casually than usual, replacing the pencil skirt and matching blouse for tight black skinny jeans and a red t-shirt. She hadn’t put on her shoes yet.

“Zira,” she said, turning to her, “This is my big brother, it’s okay if he takes care of Angelica today?”

“Yes,” she turned to the man, Luci, she guessed, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Antonia has told me so much about you.” Well, she’d talked a bit, but that was more than the rest of her family.

“Shall we?” Mrs. Crowley asked, holding out her hand to Zira, which she took.

“Yes, are we walking?”

“Nah, Luci’s letting me borrow his car.”

“Am I?” he asked, raising his eyebrow, “I don’t think I agreed to that.”

“You agreed when you first asked me to take care of Adam,” Luci rolled his eyes and handed her the keys to the car.

“You owe me.” He muttered, to which she rolled her eyes.

“Are we really still counting.”

“No.”

The drive to the fair was both the most exhilarating and the most frightening ten minutes of her life. Antonia drove so fast; she was expecting to be pulled over any second.

They arrived at the fair three minutes before the expected time, and Zira accepted that that was going to be the scariest part of the evening.

“Really, Dear, I’m never riding with you again.”

“Naturally.” She was grinning.

The lines to the entrance were shorter in the afternoon, but they still waited for a good ten minutes until they could get inside. The first thing Antonia did when they got in was buy cotton candy and then drag her to one of the largest rides there.

The line was long, so they enjoyed the candy as they waited, taking pieces off the stick, and popping them in their mouths. By the time they were at the line, they’d finished it and their hands were sticky with sugar.

While Toni enjoyed the ride, Zira far preferred the wait.

The next thing they did was go to some of the stalls, where Toni won her a snake plushy, which she wrapped around her shoulders.

By the end of the night, both of them were full of carnival food, and their arms were full of stuffed animals.

To finish off the night, they went to the Ferris wheel.

“Why don’t you talk about your family?” she blurted out when the wheel began to move. She’d been wondering the past few hours, since she met her brother.

“They aren’t really my family.” She said, looking out over the slowly shrinking fair, “Family doesn’t kick people out, right?” she turned to her with a sad smile.

“You’re right.” 

“What about your ex?” she asked, “You don’t have to tell me, of course,”

“No, no, you answered my question, I’ll answer yours” she looked down at the little people below. “He hasn’t spoken to me in years, ever since I told him about,” she shrugged.

“He isn’t even paying child support?”

“He cut all contact with me,” Toni swore.

They broke off the conversation there, looking out at the warm lights of the fair. When they got to the top, Antonia turned to her.

“May I kiss you?” she whispered, staring at her with wide eyes. Zira looked at her thin lips, painted a bright red that matched her top.

“Yes” it was so quiet, only Antonia could here. That was okay, the permission was only hers.

The kiss was like a song, soft at the start, unsure, before blooming into a passionate spectacle. She buried her hands in Antonia’s hair, tangling the long red strands in her fists. Antonia’s hands cradled her face, then one pressed her head closer, as if they could get any more.

They separated when it became harder to breathe, foreheads touching as they caught their breath. They stayed like that until their carriage stopped on the ground, sharing quick, little kisses on the way down.


	3. Bakery role reversal AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony is given the task to train an angel in the ways of earth.

Meetings at head office were a nightmare. Going there twice a week, listening to all the complaints about earth from angels who were only there for an hour at most, and having to sit through Gabriel’s pep-talks of Armageddon. ‘Only four years away!’ ‘All of you are working hard towards it!’ ‘We’re going to win!’. He’d rather go through Warlock’s terrible twos again than sit through these meetings. He didn’t even get to leave after his presentation like most of the angels. Though, the chair was nice, and seeing his siblings was always a pleasure.

If he were to be honest, though, if he were to choose earth or the angels, he wouldn’t be able to. Azirafell may or may not be the tipping point. Wasn’t he always?

“Raphael.” He looked up at his name and saw Michael staring.

“Sorry?”

“They said, you are going to be training another angel” Gabriel sighed good-naturedly, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Great. Training.

Anthony, or Raphael in Heaven, didn’t mind training. Before the fall, he always enjoyed teaching the fledglings. It wasn’t his job, really, but he always tried to make time for it.

After the fall, everyone grew a little bitter, even him, he would admit. Now training didn’t have that childlike fun. All the angels he would train had fought in the war; they had seen the Fall.

The angel he was to train had dark hair and the muscles of an unused corporation. He was also rather vocal about his distaste for humanity, which was troubling, since he was supposed to stay there until Armageddon was underway.

They stayed at Anthony’s flat/rooftop garden for about a week, before he let the angel, who chose the human name Ralph, outside. Still, it seemed a tad too early.

He glared at the people walking beside them, muttering insults in all the languages of the world. One would think angels don’t swear. That is a complete falsehood, though it is uncertain where it came from. The consensus, though, is that it was either a ploy to make angels seem too perfect and untrustworthy by demons, or a way to enhance their perfection and more worthy a cause to strive for by humans.

As they passed people, more and more seemed to notice the glaring man, breaking the careful image of ordinary Anthony had worked up over the centuries.

“Look down.” He whispered, preforming a few minor miracles to have the humans ignore them again.

“What?” the angel asked, loudly, drawing more attention, and causing Anthony to start losing his patience. He had a great deal of it, so continued to show the man around, uncomfortable with the eyes all over him. Figuratively, of course.

It was frustrating, the idea of spending the next four years, and worse, eternity, with this oaf instead of Azirafell.

They had spent years apart, yes, centuries, even. Since the Arrangement, though, they’d been seeing each other much more often, even doing the same missions. They had seen each other during wars, sometimes on opposing sides, but more often on the same. During WW1 he’d even helped Azirafell when he was shot. There were also times when they had the same goals for different reasons, like the founding of Rome and the first long distance ships.

He wished he had cherished the last dinner he and Azirafell a bit more. If only he had known, it was probably the last time they would see each other before the end.

The angel stopped in his steps and looked to his side. Anthony followed, and found they were at the bakery. Thinking of the demon probably made him unknowingly drawn to the place.

“There’s a demon in there’ the angel stated, looking to the bakery like it was the vilest place in existence.

It wasn’t. It was actually quite a sweet place, warm tones and a couple nice plants Anthony may or may not have given to Azirafell over the last century. The cupcakes were also quite nice, too. Anthony’s favorites were the take on angel food cake, with raspberry buttercream and jam inside.

Unfortunately, they were seasonal, and wouldn’t be back till summer.

“Yes.” There was no point kicking around the bush.

“And why haven’t you destroyed it, yet?”

“Because there’s no point?” he shrugged.

“No point? It’s a demon! That’s your point!”

“He hasn’t done anything,” he had to think of an excuse, “And isn’t that what mom wants? Treat others like you want to be treated? Karma’s a bitch, Golden rule, etcetera etcetera.”

“Well, uh,” the angel glared at the shop. “I’m going in.”

Crowley shrugged “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The shop was relatively quiet, which left Azirafell time to think about the past week. Or, more precisely, worry about Anthony. He was a demon, though, so he would vehemently deny ever being worried. He was instead annoyed at Anthony’s lack of communication for the past week.

Azirafell was just about to, metaphorically, bit the bullet and call Anthony, when the bell to his shop chimed, indicating a new customer. He sensed the angel immediately.

You see, angels and demons have a certain feel to them, that, in their corporations, manifests as a smell. Most demons, in Anthony’s opinion, had a slight burning scent. Most apparently smelt like burnt rotten sewage or a flaming garbage dump. Anthony insisted Azirafell smelt like burnt baked goods, like cookies left in the oven too long.

Angels, on the other hand, had this clean scent. Like bleach or a very strong cleaner. Anthony’s was similar, smelling remarkably like hand sanitizer when not wearing cologne, but it was balanced out by more earthy tones.

This angel, however, smelt like you had taken every cleaner known to man, angel, and demon alike, and mixed them. It was an overwhelming mix of lemon, lavender, and bleach. Bleach in general could make him queasy, but the scent assaulting his nostrils now made it difficult not to throw up over the newcomer.

“Demon.” The angel glared at him, then gave him a smirk, “I sentence you to-”

He was cut off by a snap and turned to dust before he could do anything.

“That was faster than expected.” A voice said from the entrance to the back room. Azirafell turned to see Anthony leaning on the door frame. “I did warn him.”

“Yes, well, he was quite annoying, coming up to me like that!” he shook his head, “Angels these days.”

“You’re telling me,” he opened the door to the back room, snapping to change the sign from open to closed, “Care for a drink?”

“I do believe it is me that is supposed to offer that.”

They subsequently got drunk, not caring that Anthony would probably be called up to deal with that mess.


End file.
